


Midnight Confessions

by Huntress69



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huntress69/pseuds/Huntress69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam confesses...to John</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> I still have a long-standing denial of IMTOD

**Disclaimer: Yeah...sure...okay. For legal reasons, I hereby state that I don't own Dean, Sam, or any of the other characters I write about. I just play with them, have fun with them, and let them indulge in any and all pleasures they choose.**

**++++++++++**

John was having a restless night. He couldn't sleep, because he was still troubled by nightmares from the experience with the semi. 

If it hadn't been for Sam, for that damn vision of his, stopping John from making the deal with the Yellow-Eyed Demon....

Sam had stopped him, and Dean woke up from his coma, and unfortunately the thing was still out there. 

But they'd get that bastard. It might take time, but they would succeed.

And this week, he and his sons were doing something they didn't do very often anymore - hunting together. 

Actually, the hunt itself was finished, and John was getting ready to leave in the morning. But he grew restless and decided to go to the nearest bar, on the edge of town. John nearly called Dean to join him, and went to their room. The lights were off, so he assumed his son's were asleep. He entered the bar, took a seat, turned around, and caught sight of Sam, sitting at a corner table by himself. That in itself was odd. Sam was not in the habit of going to bars, unless they were on a hunt. And never without Dean. Taking his beer, he walked over and took a seat.

"Hi, Sam. What brings you here? And where's...."

"Hi Dad," Sam giggled, halfway off his chair. "Whassup?"

John looked him over. "You're drunk, Sammy."

"Not I." Sam looked affronted. "I...I'm...crocked!" Sam picked up the bottle of bourbon and drank. "So there!"

"Okay, Sam, talk to me."

"Nope. 'Cause you wouldn't understand, that I know." Sam pouted. "He said I couldn't tell you and I really wanted to and he's ashamed and he...he...HE'S CHEATING!" 

"He?" John blinked at him. "Sam, are you telling me you're gay?"

"He doesn't love me anymore." Sam took another swallow. "And I hate him. HATEHIMHATEHIMHATEHIM!!" 

"Calm down, son," John soothed. 

"And you don't love me anymore because I love him." Sam stated with certainty. "Daddy, I want you to love me."

"Daddy? Shit, Sam, you are beyond crocked." John sighed and took the bottle away, having a swig himself. 

"You hate me 'cause I'm...well, I'm not exactly gay, 'cause he's the only man I've ever been with."

"No, Sammy, I don't hate you. Don't get me wrong, I was kind of hoping you'd give me grandchildren one day." John gave him a genuine smile. "But I could never hate my baby boy."

"I'm still your baby boy?" Sam's breath hitched and he looked like he was going to cry. "Oh, Dad...."

"Sam? What now?"

"That was...was...beautiful." 

"I have my moments, Sammy. Now, tell me who this bastard is so I can kill him."

"You'd do that for me, Dad?"

John smiled at him, the smile that father's give their children, warm and loving. It was a rare thing for him, but Sam was so drunk, John couldn't help it. "Let's just say that nearly getting crushed in the Impala can give you a new outlook on life."

"It could, couldn't it. See, that's why I figured I could tell you, but he said no." Sam seemed to sober for the moment. "And please don't kill him. It would be wrong."

"Sam, he's hurting you and that...fuck, Sam, it hurts me. Now where is he?"

"He went into the bathroom," Sam sniffled.

"I'll just go have a chat with him." John got up. 

"Dad, promise me you won't kill him, okay."

"I...promise."

"And don't mess up his face. I like his face. Especially when he smiles."

"No face messing up," John fought a laugh. "Got it." He turned to the men's room, but turned back to Sam. "Sam, how do you know he's cheating?"

"I followed him here, and he...he was...she was bent over the pool table and he was bent over her and his hands were over hers and...and...."

"He cheated on you with a woman?"

"He told me he was done with them, that there was only me."

"But he cheated...with a woman." John had to repeat it out loud. This was too surreal, even for him.

Sam nodded and pointed to the pool tables, and a vivacious, big-busted redhead. 

"Her, Sam?"

"Yes."

"I'll be back, and I'll make things all better."

"Thanks, Dad."

"That's what dad's do, son. I may not have done it in the past, but I intend to make up for all the shit I put you through."

John pushed his way into the men's room and stood outside the stall, waiting for the man to come out. As the stall opened, he made a fist and....

"Hi, Dad," Dean smiled. 

John opened his mouth and shut it, opening all the stalls. 

"Looking for somebody?"

"Your brother's here and...."

"Sam's here? Why? He told me he was doing research."

"He's been drinking, Dean. And he told me about...he told me the secret."

"He did?" Dean finished washing his hands and gulped.

"Yeah, he did."

"O-kay." Dean nodded slowly, "So he's not drinking because he told you and you lectured him on the evils of...."

"Of course not, Dean! What kind of a Father do you think I am? Didn't I raise you and your brother to believe that **everyone** was the same, that prejudice was wrong?"

"I-I'm sorry, Dad. I sure had you pegged wrong. I told Sam you didn't need to know...wait a second? **Why** is Sam drunk?"

"Being faithful is a tough thing for some men, whether they be straight or...not-so-straight."

"Faithful?" Dean's head was shaking quickly. "There's been nobody else. Why would he think....?"

"He told me about the redhead, about bending her over the pool table and...."

"She just wanted to know how to shoot pool, that's all." Dean swallowed hard. "I swear."

"Dean, are you sure?"

"Yeah, course I am. Silly Sammy, always jumping to conclusions."

"Let's go tell him, Dean."

They went back to the table, and Dean stood before Sam, a small smile on his face. 

"It was just a pool lesson, Sammy. See...." Dean nodded to the redhead, who was necking with another woman. 

Sam tilted his head at Dean. "Just a lesson?"

"Yeah," Dean actually flushed pink and kicked at invisible dirt. "Geez, Sammy, I told you there was nobody else."

"I guess I was kinda...stupid."

"It's okay, Sammy."

John's head whipped from one son to the other. "What...I...huh?" The proverbial lightbulb went off over his head and he picked up the bourbon and took a **very** deep drink. 

"Sam was so worried about how you'd react Dad, but now...now he's told you...." Dean had the biggest grin. "And you're okay with it and...Dad, I love you." He pulled John into a hug.

"Please, Dean," John pushed him back, "I was hoping to get a woman tonight."

"Sorry." Dean glanced around the bar. "IT'S OKAY! HE'S MY FATHER!"

"Shut up, Dean," John sighed. "And take your brother back to the motel and get him to bed...I mean, get him sobered up."

"Okay, Dad," Dean nodded. "Will do."

Dean pulled Sam to his feet and Sam wrapped his arms around his Father. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome, Sammy." John hugged him back. "I told you, I'd never be angry with you."

"C'mon, little brother," Dean slipped his arm around Sam's waist. "Time to take you to bed."

"I love you too, Dad," Sam pretty much slurred, his knees going out on him.

Dean hefted his brother over his shoulder. "See you in the morning, Dad."

**~~~~~~~~~~**

Dean walked all the way back to the motel carrying Sam. He opened the door and put his brother down...the brother who leaned against the wall laughing...and (almost) completely sober.

"Damn, Sammy, you weigh a ton." 

"You're the one who carried me all the way back here." 

"Sam, when I came out of that stall, I could have sworn he was gonna hit me!"

"But he didn't." Sam walked to the bed and sat down. "I told you not to worry about him. He loves us and just wants us to be happy." 

"I'm just happy he decided to go out, and we got there before he did." 

Dean's boots and shirt were quickly shed and he undid his pants swiftly, throwing them carelessly into a corner. He knelt behind Sam, pulling Sam's shirt off. He so loved to look at his brother from this position. His back bare, arms of pure muscle, looking so powerful, so strong. And Dean knew he was. He slid his hands up Sam's strong back, fingers lightly brushing down, then up the well sculpted arms, massaging his shoulders, his lips kissing Sam's neck ever so lightly. 

As the massage deepened, Sam's eyes drifted shut and he pretty much forgot everything else. His head fell back onto Dean's shoulder, and he felt the teeth and tongue, moaned from the sucking and nipping, and thought for sure he was going to come when Dean stroked him through his denims. Sam's hands moved to his pants, undoing them. 

Dean swung around and slid into Sam's lap. As Sam's eyes met his, Dean slid his hands up Sam's chest, caressing his nipples, smiling as Sam gasped. Dean's lips pressed hard upon Sam's, and he moaned into Sam's mouth. Eventually, they had to break apart to breathe. 

Sam was pushed flat on his back. He tried to sit up, but a strong hand pushing him down prevented that. "Stay still." Sam just nodded, giving himself over to Dean. 

Dean pulled Sam's pants off and lay atop him as if Sam were a second skin, covering Sam's body with his own. He rubbed against Sam until Sam was begging for more, not with words, but with soft moans, slow movements. "Shh, I'm getting there, Sammy." Kisses trailed down Sam's body, straight to his dick. He peppered the length with kisses, and when Sam made an attempt to thrust up, Dean kissed his way back up. He suckled on each nipple until they were both red and raw, listening to Sam's breaths become short gasps for air. 

Oh, Dean so loved to torture his Sammy like this.

He abandoned the nipples for Sam's neck, sucking and biting one spot just below the jaw, leaving his mark in clear view for anyone to see.

"D-D-Dean...p-p-please...need...please, God please...."

"Okay, Sammy-baby. I'm gonna take good care of you, just like I always do." His tongue left a path down Sam's chest and abdomen, dipping into the navel, and Sam couldn't help the giggle.

"Dean, stop...."

Dean glanced up. "Stop, keep going, make up your mind." He smiled. "And I so love it when you laugh."

"I promise, I'll laugh later, just...Dean, please...."

"Okay, no more teasing." Kisses upon Sam's well-muscled thighs, and Dean kissed further down, and of course couldn't resist tickling the bottoms of Sam's feet. 

Sam reached down and grabbed Dean by the hair, pulling Dean's mouth back up to his dick. "Don't make me beg anymore."

Dean didn't answer, he just took Sam's dick in his fist. He laved the length, paying extra attention to the head on each stroke up, then licking down again. He was moving painfully slow, and easily resisted Sam's hands, which kept trying to guide Dean's mouth over his dick. He didn't realize how stimulating it would be, teasing Sam like this. As slowly as he could, Dean slid his mouth over Sam's thickness, opening his mouth wider to take it in. He knew just how to move his tongue, graze his teeth along the length, to give Sam the most pleasure. But even he could take but so much, and now his own cock was painfully hard as well and begging for it's own relief. His head lifted and he whispered, "I love you," as he reached for the lube. He cast a quick glance at Sam's face as he squeezed some on his fingers, and nearly lost it by the look alone.

Sam was sweating and panting. He looked completely debauched. And sexy. And so fucking innocent that Dean thought, just for a moment, that he was taking advantage of his younger brother. 

"FUCK ME ALREADY DAMMIT!"

Of course, those words from Sam's throat dispelled any thoughts of baby brother being an innocent. The gel was on his fingers, the fingers sliding inside Sam. "I'm going to fuck you all right." He upthrust hard, fingers sliding out. "Long, hard, and **deep**. My cock is going to slide inside your so **very** tight ass, and you're going to scream for me to stop. But I'm not going to stop." Dean slicked his cock, wiped his hand on the sheet, took Sam by the hips and pulled Sam's ass to his cock. "I'll keep pushing in, and you'll beg me to stop again, but this time you won't protest so much. You'll open to me, your body ceding it's lust." 

"Jesus, Dean...." Sam was almost intoxicated by his brother's words. Dean had talked dirty to him in the past, but not like this. He took his dick in hand, jerking himself slow.

"You'll cry out for me, scream my name, tell me you want it harder." Dean rested his cock at Sam's hole. "You'll beg me to touch you...to let you come." He pried Sam's fingers away from his dick, replacing them with his own. "Don't touch yourself. Only I get to touch you." His other hand spread Sam, his cock easing in oh so fucking slowly. "How does it feel, Sammy?" He pushed in further and heard Sam gasp, stilling himself. He was big, long and thick, and it always took Sam a moment to adjust. But Dean knew when it was okay to move again, and slid further inside. "Talk to me, baby. Tell me."

"Pain and pleasure." Sam moaned softly. "Pleasure and pain."

"You like the pain as much as the pleasure, don't you? You like being owned, being **mine**. I want to hear you say it, Sammy." He slid out halfway. "Tell me." 

"I belong to you." 

"That you do, Sammy." Dean slid back in, starting a rhythm that was pleasure to both. Leaning down, which drove his cock even deeper, he bit Sam's shoulder. **"Mine."**

"Yes...yours, Dean. Take me...show me...." Dean, once again, didn't know what came over him. He pulled Sam forward hard, impaling him on his needing cock. 

Sam was surprised by the sudden pain and from instinct tried to wrench free, but Dean just held him tighter. He jerked Sam a little faster, a little harder and Sam stopped struggling. As Dean thrust in, Sam arched forward. His hand came down around Dean's and both stroked harder. Dean was pulling out almost all the way and slamming back in.

It was pain mixed with pleasure, the two feelings so close now, neither could tell the difference. 

And both were too fargone to last. 

They came together, a rare occurrence, each sighing the other's name. They separated reluctantly, and looked at each other, two pair of eyes darkened with lust. 

Dean pulled Sam's mouth to his, kissing him deeply. "Was I good?" he asked with a knowing grin. 

"Better," Sam sighed. "That was amazing."

"You're amazing." Dean kissed him again

"I know," Sam smirked. 

"And how do you know?" Dean teased.

"Somebody just told me." Sam lay back down. "You gonna get a wet cloth? Kinda sticky here."

Dean narrowed his eyes and dragged himself out of bed. "The things I do for you." He went to the bathroom, wet a cloth and tossed it to Sam. "There's your cloth."

Sam wiped himself down, while Dean did the same. He then threw the cloth at Dean, hitting him in the face. "Oops."

"If I wasn't so tired, I'd...." He slid under the sheet, Sam crawling into his arms. 

"You'd what?"

"Good night, Sammy." Dean shut off the light and stole one last kiss. "And tomorrow, I get to bottom."

"Okay, Dean. If you're a good boy."

"And if I'm a bad boy?"

Sam nuzzled his neck. "I'll tie you up and spank you." His eyes drifted shut and he was like a dead weight in Dean's arms a few minutes later.

A slow and very evil smile crossed Dean's face. "Well then, Sam, I think I'll be **extra** naughty tomorrow."

**FIN**


End file.
